Unexpected Comforting
by Emmithar
Summary: Sara never took to Grissom asking Sophia out for dinner all that well. How far and how deep will a heartbroken CSI go before asking for help, before the unthinkable happens?
1. Default Chapter

**Unexpected Comforting**

**By: Emmithar**

**Summary: Post Unbearable; What happens after Grissom asks Sofia out for dinner, leaving Sara sulking by herself? **

**Disclaimer; Characters and places are not mine, wish they were. **

**A/N: Just a little something I felt that should have happened. Please RR**

* * *

How could this possibly be happening? Sara thought to herself, sitting down on the bench. Gil had just asked Sofia out for dinner, she hadn't meant to over hear them. At least it wasn't like she was trying to eavesdrop…or was she?

She was tired, and sick; Sara nodded, that was it, she was overworked, she just needed some rest. She had only imagined Gil asking her out, only imagined them laughing when they talked. Sara opened her locker, rifling through her things. When was the last time she laughed with him?

Sara let out an exasperated sigh, slamming her locker closed, wincing as her finger was caught between the metal. "Ow," she cursed under her breath, holding the tender flesh up to her mouth. That wasn't the brightest of ideas.

"You okay Sara?"

She looked up to see Greg standing in the hallway, watching her. "I'm fine," she muttered, closing her locker again, this time more slowly.

"It's just that you seem a little…upset," Greg started to say, coming into the room. Sara cut him off.

"I'm fine Greg," she snapped, sitting back down on the bench. She had said it a little harsher then she had meant.

"Alright," Greg said, sounding somewhat hurt, "I guess I'll be seeing you around then."

Sara drew in a breath, pressing her tongue against her teeth. She had to say something, she hadn't meant to be harsh with him. But what could she say?

"You want to go get something to eat?" Sara could have smacked herself. What exactly did she just do? Was she that depressed that she had just asked Greg Sanders on a date?

"Are you feeling okay?" Greg asked her, turning slowly around.

Sara nodded, feeling herself blush a little. "Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"Because," Greg answered, leaning against the lockers, "you just asked me out."

"No I didn't" Sara said quickly, silently cursing herself again.

"Yes, you did," Greg responded, punctuating each word.

"No, I didn't," Sara responded quickly, "I just asked if you wanted to get something to eat. I mean, can I help it if we get off the same time, and neither one of us have eaten yet, and we somehow end up at the same restaurant, at the same time?"

"I don't know," Greg said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean the odds in that happening are slim, like one in three million."

"But it's still possible," Sara answered, looking at him. "You drive?"

"If you're willing to brave my car," Greg warned her.

Sara laughed, grabbing the last of her things. "I don't think I'll have any problems."

* * *

They had chosen a nicer place, nicer than McDonalds anyways, but still basic enough that they could wear their work clothes and fit in nicely. Sara had thought the idea unrealistic, she wasn't sure what she was doing, but she couldn't blow Greg off minutes after asking him out. She was surprised at how the night went, it wasn't as bad as she had thought it would be, in fact, she enjoyed it.

They had talked, more or less, non-stop since leaving the lab. Their conversation was never on one direct topic for long. Sara had to admit it felt good to talk, just to get a lot of things off her mind. She hadn't realized how much she was keeping inside.

"Then I got kicked out of the science fair, in seventh grade, after I blew up the toilets in the girls room," Greg finished, taking a sip of water.

Sara laughed, "Now that, would have been something I would have liked to see. How in the world did you manage that?"

Greg shrugged, stirring the pasta on his plate. "I needed to keep my experiment wet, and the janitor wouldn't let me clog the sink and keep it in there. So I snuck in the ladies room one day after school, and transferred the gel bag into the toilet. Then when it came to the science fair that night, I had forgotten where I had stuck it. Someone had tried flushing it down the drain and the pressure finally made it pop. Except it was more of a boom, luckily no one got hurt, just wet."

Sara laughed, leaning back in her chair. An uneasy silence passed between them for a moment.

"So," Greg said, putting his fork down, "you want to talk about why you're so angry at Grissom?"

Sara snapped her head up, "What are you talking about?" she stammered, biting her lip.

"Sara, if looks could kill, we wouldn't be eating right now. We would be at his funeral," Greg told her quietly.

Sara pressed her lips tightly together, shaking her head as she crossed her arms.

"There it is again," Greg said, causing her to look back at him.

"What?"

"That look," he told her, "the one that says you're after blood."

She shook her head, "I just don't know what's wrong with me," she said finally.

"What's wrong with you?" Greg asked, surprised now. "Sara, we all have our problems, no one's perfect."

"Then why does Grissom prefer Sofia over me?" She could feel herself blushing again. Why in the world was she asking Greg this? Maybe coming here was a bad idea

"Ah," Greg said, finally catching on. "That's what this is all about?"

"I mean what, does he like blondes? Maybe I can dye my hair, then he'll notice me."

"Sara," Greg started, but was cut off again.

"After all this time, he still doesn't notice me, I'm nothing more than his pupil, someone he can show off, he doesn't care about me."

"Sara," Greg nearly shouted, causing a few other people to look to their table. Greg swallowed, leaning forward as he lowered his voice.

"You know that's not true."

"He asked her out for dinner," Sara said defensively, "what am I supposed to think?"

"You asked me out," Greg told her.

Sara drew in a breath, only to stop. Greg had struck a chord. Her mind raced, trying to find a comeback, but nothing came.

"It doesn't prove anything does it?" Greg asked. Sara shook her head. "You like him don't you?" he prodded.

"I do," Sara answered, looking away. She could feel the sting of tears starting to build up behind her eyes.

"Okay, then why don't you talk with him. Send him a card, that or a bouquet of dead bugs, I'm sure he'll love that."

Sara laughed softly. "He probably would," she said softly. She sighed, picking up her water glass "So I talk with him, what if he says no?"

"Then you'll know," Greg told her. "It's hard, but it's better than waiting and wondering your entire life. It's like this," he leaned further across the table. "Will you marry me?"

Sara choked on her drink. "Greg, are you proposing?" she asked in disbelief.

"Just answer the question," he prodded her.

"Greg, I hardly know you," she stammered. She couldn't believe this was happening.

"Yes or no," he asked firmly.

She shook her head, "No Greg, I'm sorry."

Greg nodded, smiling a bit, "See, now I know that you don't want to marry me, so I have other options open. Maybe Catherine, what do you think?"

Sara laughed, feeling a little relieved. "Okay, okay, I get your point. I'll talk with him, when I feel ready."

Greg nodded, "Just don't wait too long."

"Why?" Sara asked him, "why are you doing this, for me?"

"You're my friend Sara, and friends help each other out," Greg stated, pushing his pasta off to one side.

"Do you always play with you food?"

Greg only grinned, "When I don't like what I'm eating, yes."

"Why did you get it then, if you don't like it?"

"Because," he said smugly, glancing up at her, "you recommended it."

Sara laughed, "Do you always listen to what women tell you to do?"

"Only when they're as charming as you," he responded quickly, making her blush once again.

"The bill," their waiter said, placing it face down on the table before leaving. Sara reached for it, but Greg snatched it up before she could touch it.

"I'll get it," he told her, turning the paper over.

Sara raised an eyebrow, watching his expression, "You sure?"

Greg glanced up from the bill. "Fifty-fifty?" he asked, feeling a little more relieved when she nodded. "Good," he said, digging his wallet out, "Else I would have to be doing dishes here to finish paying for it."

Sara laughed, standing up, waiting for him. "Greg," she waited for him to look up, "Thank you, you really are a good listener, and you give pretty good advice too."

He only shrugged, "I do what I can," he stood up to.

"Greg," Sara asked again, "about tonight…this wasn't, I mean…"

Greg placed a hand on her arm. "Just a two friends getting a bite to eat before going home. Nothing more."

Sara nodded, smiling a little. Greg continually surprised her everyday, and she wondered to herself if there was ever going to be a day when he didn't. As she followed him out, she decided that coming here, had been a good idea after all.

**The End**


	2. Chapter Two

**I hadn't originally planned on continuing this, but the idea did continue. Slight summary change.**

**Chapter Two**

He had asked her to stay. It wasn't a big deal, it really wasn't. After all he had asked her to stay as well. Sara watched from across the hall, as Sophia worked on the evidence they had picked up earlier. She had been watching her for the past few hours now, endless thoughts running through her mind.

_Talk with him, just don't wait too long, _Greg had told her. That night seemed like ages ago; it had only been a week. She hadn't said a word to Grissom or Sophia since then. It was hard work, but she had been able to avoid the two so far. She had ignored her cell phone when the caller ID read Grissom. She had left on her breaks, going here and there to grab a bite to eat. Any time she needed to tell Sophia anything, she waited until she had left, then let Greg know, let him tell her.

Greg knew there was something up. He had prodded, had questioned when they were alone. Sara had avoided answering the questions, telling him it was nothing. But the questions Greg had been asking recently had been getting harder to answer. Now she was trying to avoid being around him as well.

It wasn't easy, she had been avoided her coworkers, her friends, everyone she had trusted. Sara was lonely; she would go to work, interact with the others only when she had to. She avoided eye contact, avoided the pressing questions. She left after her shift ended, went home, had a few drinks and got lost in the TV, or the music from her stereo.

She would wake up later, to a massive headache. After showering and a few splashes of cold water, mixed in with heavy medicine, she felt better for the most part. At least good enough to keep up the appearance that nothing was wrong.

_But something was_, she reminded herself, glaring at Sophia. She watched as the newest member of her shift pulled her hair off her shoulder. Normally she wore it up, but since Grissom had mentioned that he liked her hair down, Sophia had kept it that way more often. _It was all her fault, _Sara thought bitterly, looking away as Sophia lifted her head.

Sara couldn't remember that last time she ate, and she doubted the four drinks she had earlier that day counted as a food group. Along with that, she hadn't the faintest clue when the last time she had a decent night of sleep, or any at all for that matter.

It hadn't bothered her at first. She could handle it, at first anyways. But now, the lack of sleep and sudden crash diet had started to take its toll on her. She first noticed it two days ago. Labeling evidence, she had forgotten several bags, and even forgot to separate two separate cases. Luckily she caught her own mistake before anyone else did. It had taken hours to fix everything, but she had fixed it in the women's restroom, locking the door behind her, placing a 'cleaning sign' before going in.

It wasn't the smartest thing to do, there was a good chance of cross contamination, it had taken longer than she wanted; luckily most everyone she was trying to avoid was out on a new case. She had volunteered to stay behind, something that had earned her a few queried looks. She had ignored them.

When they came back, and questioned her on why she hadn't gotten much done, she had lied. _"I got sick,"_ she told them, _"rested a while, made sure I felt well enough, then started." _It had also given them a reason to why she had stayed behind.

_"You should have called in if you didn't feel well," _Greg had reprimanded her. She scowled, Greg was acting as her supervisor, even when she had higher clearance than he did. At the time she had just brushed it off. No more that a shrug of her shoulders. It had been enough to get Greg to back off. But for how long?

"Hey stranger."

Sara glanced up to see Greg in the doorway. She frowned; obviously not too long. "What do you want?" she asked bitterly, looking back down at the papers in her hand; the same papers that had been there since her shift had started.

"Want to know what I did to piss you off so much for starters," Greg said, coming into the room.

"What makes you think that?" Sara asked, not even looking at him. She turned to the next page, pretending to be studying. In all actuality, she had no idea what case she was even working on.

"You haven't talked to me for two days now," he said, holding his hands out, "I know you've been avoiding the others, that makes sense because I know that you're mad at them. I just don't know where I messed up so bad that my lead partner won't even talk to me."

Sara lifted her eyes to glare up at him. "You didn't do anything," she told him, before looking back down at the papers. Her mind was fuming. _Of course, you did nothing, you never do anything wrong. Just like Sophia, completely perfect. _

Greg let out a sigh, "That makes me feel a lot better," he said sarcastically. "When did you stop eating?"

Sara looked at him, blinking. She was trying to find her voice, trying to say something.

"How do I know?" Greg asked the question for her. "You look like death warmed over. You've lost a lot of weight, I'm not the only who's noticed."

"Then how come no one's said anything," she asked him, growing angry again.

"Because they're all afraid of you. You're like some bomb waiting to go off," Greg sat down next to her.

"Grissom came to me yesterday, wanted to know why you haven't talked to him."

Sara bit her lip. She was angry at Grissom, but at the mentioning of his name she had frozen up. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him that you've been busy and were feeling under the weather," Greg explained, laying his hands on the table. "You can't avoid him forever Sara, you're a mess."

Sara took in a breathe, then grew angry again. "You know Greg, you're not my father, so why don't you just butt out of other peoples lives," she told him sternly, standing as she did so. She literally threw the paperwork in his face, "here, Mr. Genius, you figure this out," she told him crisply, leaving the room.

Greg grimaced, holding a hand against his cheek where the papers had cut him. He had never seen Sara so angry before, and he was at a loss on what to do. He couldn't just leave her be, she was a friend. He pulled his hand away, making a face at the blood that covered his fingers, it was also on the papers. With a sigh he picked them up, frowning as he read through them. What was Sara doing reading through the custodian's manual?

Sara needed help, and it was obvious she wouldn't listen to him. But he wasn't sure who she would listen to. He needed to talk to someone about it, and soon, he decided finally, leaving the papers on the table as he left the room himself.

**TBC**


	3. Unthinkable

**Chapter Three: Unthinkable **

She had never felt this sick before. Sara leaned over, her hands gripping her knees as she panted lightly. At least she couldn't remember ever feeling this sick before. Forcing herself up, Sara staggered back to her couch, sitting down with a heavy sigh. She had less than twenty minutes to get to work, and at this rate, she wouldn't get there until at least an hour later.

Sara had woken up to the pounding headache, the one so familiar for the last several weeks now. At least she had slept some, or maybe she had passed out. Then again, did it make any difference?

Groaning, Sara rubbed her forehead, trying to rub the ache from the confines of her pulsing skin. Nothing had been different, then why, all the sudden, did she feel so horrible?

She didn't know how long the episode lasted, she hadn't seen the time when it first started. It wasn't like she was watching the clock, waiting for it to happen. The single thought reminded her, her eyes drifted up, staring at the digital readout, the red numbers seemingly floating.

Closing her eyes, she gave her head a few shakes, trying to clear things up. She felt like she could lie like this forever, just to curl up here, and slowly wish the pain away. The only thing that got her too her feet the first time was the unexpected heaves, and pure habit.

But if she didn't show up at work, the others might wonder. She laughed bitterly, turning her head to the side, resting it up against the armrest. What did they care anyways? Grissom was obviously attracted to Sophia, that much wasn't hard to see. Whenever he talked with her it was light, flirty even.

An opposite tone with her; Sara could still remember a few days back. Only a few short hours after fighting with Greg, she had been walking down the hallway, going to meet up with Archie to pull some video footage. She had ran into Grissom, turning around the corner, she had actually walked straight into him.

Mumbling a soft sorry, Sara continued one, her pace even faster than when first begun, a sad attempt to put distance between him and her. The only thing that stopped her was his voice.

_"Sara, can I see you for a moment?"_

She let out extended breath of air, turning around slowly. Grissom pointed wordlessly in the direction of his office, his meaning clear enough. For a split second, Sara thought about dodging him, telling him she was busy, that she would come later. For only a second though, then the thought passed, knowing better than to argue.

She led the way, Grissom falling in step next to her. Sara sped her pace up a little, so that she was in front, the last thing she wanted to be was equals, even in step. Walking inside, she didn't wait for an invitation to sit, knowing already he would tell her to do so. The less of a conversation, the better.

_"You've been busy lately, so I hear."_

Sara only stared at him, her hands folded, rather clasped in front of her. If he was as observant as he claimed to be, he would have noticed.

_"Greg tells me you've been working sick, is this true?" _

Sara's mind was fuming at the thought of Greg going behind her back. He could tell all the stories he wanted, she would play along.

_"Why would he say that? I'm fine."_

She kept her answers short, her eyes down at a slight angle, to avoid direct contact. She could hear Grissom lean back in his chair.

_"What case are you working?"_

Slowly, she raised her eyes, her mind working quickly, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

_"The Barren's case."_

_"The Barren case was closed last week Sara. Why are you still working on it?"_

Her mouth was dry, as she tried to formulate an answer. To say that she had reopened it, he would demand to know where she got authorization to do so, and for what reasoning. To say that she didn't know that, he would query on how she was feeling, if she was okay. Sara wanted neither.

_"I uh, I mean the…"_

She was stuttering now, her mind racing for an answer.

_"The Jones' case?"_

Sara had nodded as soon as Grissom had mentioned it. Waving a hand she faked a smile.

_"I just got them mixed up."_

He didn't believe her, she could see it in the way he looked at her, looked into her eyes. Sara turned away, uncomfortable. Still, he didn't press the matter; he only nodded, telling her she could go. Sara was thankful for the escape.

Sara's eyes snapped open, focusing on the clock again, only to groan, seeing she had only a few minutes until work started. They were working on an arson case; she, Greg and Grissom, Sophia was off tonight.

Still, Sara did not want to meet up with Grissom, not tonight. Still, she knew if she did nothing, one or the both of them would stop by to check up on her. It was their nature, especially Greg, an irritating one at that. The last thing she needed was them harping on her.

Pushing herself to a sitting position, she shuddered, waiting for the sickly feeling to pass before getting to her feet. Her kitchen was only a short walk away, thankful that at least one thing in the world made sense. Reaching for the phone she punched in the number for work, unsurprised that Jenny answered.

Sara dully told her that she wasn't coming in that night, and Jenny promised to pass it on. Hanging up the phone, Sara held onto the counter as she slowly made her way back, reminding herself that the couch wasn't all too far away. Something caught her eye though, on the counter as she walked by. Coming to a stop, Sara stared at the object, a silent battle going on in her mind.

Reaching for it, she grasped the handle, pulling the knife from its stand. The silver blade gleamed lightly under the lights as she turned it over in her hands. Seemingly satisfied, she continued her trek to the couch, sitting this time instead of lying down, clutching the knife to her chest as she fought the waves of dizziness that threatened to cling to her.

She wasn't really sure what she was doing; it was as if someone else was controlling her mind. Someone else who was rolling up her sleeve and someone else that held the blade against her skin, dragging the knife slowly, the small droplets of blood beading along the cut before rolling down her arm, pulled by gravity.

Dropping the knife in one sudden movement, Sara stared in shock at the blood that ran down her arm, falling into a small pool on the cushion below. What had she done? What was she doing? Hastily she wiped at the cuts, drawing her hand through the blood trails on her skin in a meager attempt to make it go away. It only served for more blood to come out.

Stumbling first to her feet, and then into the bathroom, Sara dug a washcloth out, drenching it in water before pressing it against her arm, flinching at the slight sting. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Sara shook lightly, her body trembling as a few drops of water blood ran down her limb, falling into the sink.

What had she done?

**_TBC_**


	4. No More

**Chapter Four: No More**

_Three cuts, similar in length and width, rested against her skin. The pale flesh quickly changing color as her blood began to run down her arm. Rolling of her arm, it fell onto the couch, landing in separate drops, staining the pale brown material. In the silence she could hear her heart pounding, beating with a furious drive. She was terrified. What was happening to her? This wasn't her, she didn't know this person, this…this suicidal freak…_

"Sara?"

She turned towards the voice, glancing at him for only a moment before she turned her attention back down to the paperwork. There was no reason to acknowledge him; she knew that he would continue to talk. She could hear the hesitancy in his voice as he came further in to the room. He was nervous, afraid even, and why shouldn't he be? After what he had done to her, telling Grissom on her. Just because Greg Sanders was perfect, didn't mean that she, a lowly human being, wasn't allowed to make a mistake every now and then.

"I thought you weren't coming in tonight," he stated, taking a seat opposite of her. Leaning forward, he put most of his weight on the table, causing it to shift some.

She gave him a sharp glare, and he backed off, leaning back in his chair now instead. Sara didn't give him an answer, only concentrating on the papers. She had been her for over an hour now, and had been able to concentrate on nothing but what had transpired before.

She felt sickened, empty. It was a different feeling from before, the one that was filled with jealously, rage, and hurt was now replaced by fear, and doubt. A hollow feeling that she could not explain. A bitter taste was in the back of her mouth, it tasted like blood, and her mind was racing at top speeds. She was close to her breaking point.

"Sara?" Greg questioned again, watching as she trembled unnoticeably. "Don't do this to me, please. I was only trying to help you."

"I don't need to be babied Greg," she snapped, her voice tense. She could see him flinch slightly and she smiled inwardly to herself. Maybe he would take the hint and finally let her have some peace.

"I'm not babying you," Greg said after a moment, collecting himself. He noted that she was still pale; her eyes were withdrawn, bags nearly concealing them. He wouldn't be surprised to learn that she hadn't slept in over a week now. Yet it wasn't only that, it was her weight. Her clothes hung loosely now, and she was shivering, although it had neared triple degree heat earlier today, and the simple fact she was dressed in long pants and a thick mauve sweater. Her hair was hanging against her face, tangled in one big mess.

"I'm worried about you," he said softly, "you're a great friend, and I don't want to lose you."

Sara laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "Well, it might be too late for that," she told him, ignoring the look of surprise on his face. "Always too late," she muttered, willing her eyes to focus on the small black print.

The comment had both hurt and surprised Greg. He knew that Sara hadn't actually meant that, knew that deep inside she was hurting. More than anything, he wanted to help her, he wanted to see her smile again, wanted to hear her precious laugh. The Sara he once knew was gone, and in her place, a demon had taken over. He was desperate to bring her back.

Still, the words had more impact than he could have imagined. He tried to fumble for the right words, but his mind drew a complete blank. Opening his mouth he tried to say her name, but she cut him off.

"Just leave me alone," she told him, "I don't want to be bothered. Least of all you, you've messed up enough already."

The statement shocked Greg. "I messed things up?" he questioned, his voice a tad higher than normal. He was even more stunned to watch her nod. In the next moment, his shock and confusion was replaced by anger and rage.

Standing up quickly, he nearly knocked the chair over, earning a look of surprise from Sara this time. "If that's how you feel, then I'll just go," he told her. "Forget it; if you don't want my help, then don't ask for it."

She seemed to be taken aback, but only for a moment as she forced a nod, meeting his gaze evenly. "I never did," she told him quietly.

Greg paused long enough to hear her last comment, then he left the room is such a rush, it unnerved her. Within the next second, his words finally registered, her mind catching up with the events. Resting her forehead on her hand, she closed her eyes, willing herself not to start crying.

Things now were only getting worse, now she had chased off her only friend, the only person in the world that could have possibly cared for her, cared enough to at least notice that she was a living, breathing thing. And now he was gone, just like that.

Running her hand over her sleeve, and up her arm, she flinched as they came in contact with the cuts. What more could possibly go wrong? What else could she screw up? It was then she couldn't help the tears that ran down her face as she broke down emotionally.

She couldn't take this, coming here had been a mistake. She thought that she could handle it, but she was wrong. Pushing herself up, she hurried out the door, not even bothering to finish up the reports, or telling anyone of her actions. She couldn't bear to talk to anyone right now; no one would listen, or understand. It wasn't as if she could blame them either. Pushing past the last set of doors she drew in a deep breath, the warm night air hitting her harshly. Stumbling to her car, she fumbled for the handle, her vision swaying at the sudden movements. She felt beyond sick, her stomach heaving although there was nothing inside, and she found herself spiraling, the concrete slamming into her hands and knees.

Letting out a prolonged sob and gasping for air at the same time; Sara reached up, pulling door open shakily. She needed to get out of here, and now, her mind nowhere near rationalization as she drug her exhausted body into the car, pulling the door shut behind her.

After a few meek attempts, she was able to get the car started, pulling out in one long turn. The darkness surrounded her, the road barely visible through all her tears as she gunned the vehicle towards the main road, failing to hear the sharp warning that was sounded from oncoming traffic.

**TBC**


	5. What I Meant

**Love all the reviews! They really do make my day, gives me inspiration to write. Another short chapter, but there isn't too much left of the story.**

* * *

**Chapter Five: What I Meant**

It had taken Greg only a short time to realize what he had done was wrong. It didn't matter that he was angry at her, and frustrated with her unstoppable mood swings, what he had said was wrong. How could he expect Sara to act rationally when his own actions were far beyond that?

Still he couldn't find the courage to face her at the moment. Instead he kept himself busy with the case, meeting Robbins below in the morgue. The doctor met him with a nod, proceeding to work on the body, a young female, close to Sara's age. Greg reckoned that under all the burns, the girl probably looked somewhat like her as well. Or maybe it was only his imagination.

He shook his head, clearing the thoughts from his head as he focused on what Robbins was saying. Something about the girl living alone, with no immediate family that was known of. Old records had pulled up several alarming facts about their victim, having being released from a mental institution not too long ago. There were several previous records of attempted suicide, reports stating that she had severe mood swings, mood swings that reminded him of the ones Sara had been having recently.

Greg gripped the table tightly as Robbins continued to point out the COD and TOD, and a variety of other noticeable facts, not even paying the slightest attention to him. Greg's mind was racing at top speeds, no longer hearing the doctor's words as they began to blur together, becoming muffled. She couldn't, wouldn't….would she? Greg knew her behavior had been rash before, but was it enough to prompt her into taking her own life?

Greg had thought of the possibility before, but had dismissed it quickly. After all, this was Sara he was talking about; she wouldn't do something crazy like that…then again he had stated himself that the Sara he once knew was gone. He knew the old Sara would never even think such a thing, but what about this new Sara?

Guilt quickly caught up with the fear that was overriding his systems, as his words came back to him. He cursed under his breath, fearing the worse as he straightened up; ignoring the concerned look Robbins gave him. Pushing back through the doors, Greg walked only far enough so that he could not be overheard, pulling his phone from his pocket.

* * *

Sara collapsed on her couch the moment she entered her apartment. Fitful sobs overtook her tired and worn body, causing her to shake violently as she cried, barely able to breathe. She could still feel the adrenaline pumping through her body from the near collision that had happened. It terrified her even more, the simplicity that by all means she should be dead, but wasn't. It was dumb luck that she had been able to swerve out of the way from the large truck, dumb luck that she had been able to make it home in one piece.

Everything hurt, hurt in way that it was far beyond pain. A pain that she could not describe, something she was certain could not be fixed. She gripped the pillow tightly, burying her face in it as she continued to sob relentlessly, her breath catching in her throat. How much longer? How much longer would it go on like this? With each passing minute, she felt herself drifting even further into the darkness that had started to overtake her so long ago.

Sadly, she could not even remember why she had become so upset in the first place. What had been so horrible to make her forget her life, to forget who she once was? Sara squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her face into her pillow. It was so hard to breathe, to think.

The shrill ringing of her phone caught her off guard, and she raised her head dully, her hair clinging to her face. She stared dully at the device that sat next to the lamp, sniffing inwardly as it continued. With a choked sigh, she laid her head back down as it rang one last time. She had no desire to answer it, all she wanted to do was lay here and die. The world would probably be better off without her anyways.

As the last ring went past, her answering machine kicked in, her own voice floating through the dark apartment. _"Hi, you've reached Sara Sidle, I'm not at home right now, but if you leave your name and number, I will get back to you when I can."_

The recorded message was so old; she hadn't changed it since the day she bought the phone six years ago. She opened her eyes some as a new voice floated over to her, and she couldn't help but raise her head some, staring intently towards the phone.

_"Hey Sara, its Greg…" _

There was a brief pause, and she could hear him sigh. _"If you're there, pick up, please. I've tried you cell and you're not answering, and no one seen you around."_

There was another pause, a longer one this time, and he continued on. _"Come on Sara, please. Don't scare me like this; I need to talk with you. I was upset earlier; I didn't mean to say any of that. I really do want to help you…just give me that chance. Please Sara, please pick up. Let me know you're still alive, let me know I haven't lost you yet."_

Greg's voice was unsteady, close to breaking as he whispered the last part. Sara felt a twinge of guilt inside her, and at the same time, relief. Someone did care about her…but was one person enough? She heard the call end as Greg finally hung up, and Sara rested her head against the arm rest. Was one person really enough to change everything, or would it only make matters worse?

**TBC**


End file.
